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J^AMES CttENOlDETH 

THE STOR1] 
OF 

ONE OF THE EARLIEST B01JS 
OF LOUISUILLE 

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ALFRED P1RTLE 



Copyright, 1021 
<TRE STANDARD PRINTINQ CO. 

INCORPORATED 

LOUISUILLE, KENTUCKY 



Loi -Of 




DEC -9 1921 



©GLA630694 



JAMES CHENOWETH 



HpHE FILSON CLUB, in 1920, had a 
* Committee, together with the Presi^ 
dent of the Club, Alfred Pirtle, and Otto 
A. Rothert, Secretary, go to the site of 
"lllulberry Hill" in Camp Zachary Taylor, 
and build a rough monument of small 
stones, on the exact spot where the 
house had stood until 1917, fixing the 
location by a regular suruey, of which the 
Club has a record. 



in 



JAMES CHENOWETH 



MULBERRY HILL, FIRST HOME OF 
GEORGE ROGERS CLARK. 

Photograph of "Mulberry Hill," the cabin of John Clark, 
built in 1784 on Beargrass Creek near Poplar Level Road south- 
east of Louisville, Kentucky, taken in 1890 after the original 
roof, which was of clapboards (large thin slabs of timber, 
riven or split off logs, about three feet long, almost a foot wide 
and two inches thick), had been replaced by one made of shingles. 

We are told this is the first log cabin built in Jefferson 
County, Kentucky, v/ith rooms upstairs. It gave George 
Rogers Clark the first place he could call "home" in Kentucky. 
Only the unfilled entrance to the cellar remains to mark the lo- 
cation of the house which lies within the artillery range grounds 
of Camp Zachary Taylor. 

The photograph is placed in this book to show the kind of 
a house the Chenoweth family had. The windows had no 
glass in them, but the openings for windows and doors were 
provided with shutters of heavy timbers and closed with bars, 
affording protection against the rifle balls the Indians might 
fire at the house when making an attack. 

A great grandson of the builder of "Mulberry Hill" says 
he has had more than one interesting time digging bullets out 
of the logs of this very building. 



IV 



■.-g.. : ,;m% 



: 





o 




INTRODUCTORY. 

TAMES CHENOWETH and the other persons 
J mentioned in this story were actual characters, 
and the names and dates are historic — the only 
fiction is having him tell his story. Some of his 
grandchildren are still living, from whom facts 
have been obtained. A son of James Chenoweth 
was an uncle of the author, and I was reared along 
with his children, when all of us were ever ready 
for Indian stories to entertain our youthful minds. 
James is supposed to be telling his story in 1850, 
at Cincinnati. The history of the trials and 
dangers of our ancestors contains a great deal that 
we should be proud of and which we should record 
and hand down to succeeding generations. 

ALFRED PIRTLE. 



JAMES CHENOWETH 



JAMES CHENOWETH 



I AM going to tell you about events which 
happened when I was an infant. Although 
I can remember things which occurred when 
I was a boy five or six years old, I will have 
to rely on what has been told me. 

My name is James Chenoweth. I was 
born May 17, 1777, near the North Mountain 
in Berkeley County, Virginia. My father, 
Richard Chenoweth, born in 1718, was from 
a family which settled in Maryland at a very 
early date. He was a large man of great 
strength. He was a carpenter and builder of 
houses long before I can remember. 

My mother was Margaret McCarthy. She 
was a small woman and had very much the 
appearance in size of a well-grown girl of 
twelve or fourteen years. She had a quick, 
decided temperament, yet she always bore 
herself as a mother of a family should. 

Mildred was the oldest child, then came 
Thomas and Jane; I am the youngest child. 



JAMES CHENOWETH 

The Revolutionary War had been going on 
two years when I was born. The "times were 
hard" in our county in those days. Never- 
theless, the children had to be cared for, and 
the other wants of the growing family con- 
tinued. Travelers from beyond the moun- 
tains, passing through our county, told 
wonderful tales of the new country called 
Kentucky. Although this new country was 
wild, the scenery was beautiful, the trees were 
large, the lands fertile, and homes could be 
had for almost the asking. 

I have heard my mother tell of the plans 
she and father made for going over the 
mountains and valleys and streams to this 
new land. While they were making their 
preparations the word went round through 
the neighborhood that a Lieutenant-Colonel 
Clark was in the lower counties raising a 
little army to go to Kentucky in the early 
Spring of 1778. This rumor was found to be 
true, and my father, thinking this new country 
would be a good place for a man of his occupa- 
tion, decided to take his family and go with 
Colonel Clark. Besides that, he reasoned 
that a newer community would be a better 
place in which to rear a young family. 

As there were no passable roads for wagons, 
our household goods and chattels were loaded 



JAMES CHENOWETH 

upon six small, but strong, pack horses. 
Mother rode another horse and carried me 
in her arms. Milly and Jane rode another, 
while father and Tom footed it. A rough 
and lonesome road was followed for some 
distance until we came upon a well-marked 
road that the tide of travel had followed for 
twenty years, from the waters of the Potomac 
across the Alleghany mountains, to the 
streams that flowed into the Ohio River. 
It was not much of a road compared with 
those of years afterward, but it had the 
advantage of being well marked. There were 
many log cabins along the way, however, but 
unless the weather compelled, we camped out, 
and did not call on the settlers for anything 
except feed for the horses. The month of 
April, 1778, found our family at Red Stone on 
the bank of the Monongahela River. This 
place is now Brownsville, Pennsylvania. 

When those of the expedition in whom we 
are interested reached this landing, Lieuten- 
ant-Colonel Clark was making preparations 
to get his soldiers in readiness to float down 
this river to Fort Pitt, and thence down the 
Ohio to the Falls, a famous and dreaded 
locality among the boatmen, because of the 
rocks in the stream in the Ohio River. In 
addition to the soldiers, Lieutenant-Colonel 



JAMES CHENOWETH 

Clark found some twenty families waiting to 
make the voyage under the protection of the 
troops, for it was generally known that 
Indians often attacked and killed persons 
venturing down the Ohio. 

In these days of the steamboat, and in some 
states in our Union of the steam cars, it will 
be very hard for you to understand how 
much trouble and hard work it took to make 
the rough boats in which those who were the 
pioneers of this western country traveled. 
When I was young my mother and father 
tried to tell me about the boat they and their 
family and other people lived in and floated 
down the Monongahela and Ohio rivers. I 
must tell you a little about it. 

The landing where the boat was to be built 
was a smooth slope reaching to the water's 
edge. The "yard," as it was called, was 
convenient to the blacksmith shop and the 
cabins where the people of the little town 
lived. The boat was to be made, as far as 
possible, of wood. Iron was very expensive 
because every pound had to be brought on 
horseback from beyond the mountains, and 
therefore could not be used to any extent in 
building the craft. The lumber out of which 
the boat was made was obtained from trees 
which had been cut near the river bank 



JAMES CHENOWETH 

trimmed and floated down the stream to the 
"shipyard." 

Here the logs were drawn out of the water 
and raised to a kind of platform, where one 
man could stand beneath and another man 
on top of the log, and two men, one pulling 
the saw up and the other down, could saw the 
log into planks. This, of course, was a slow 
process. Later sawmills run by horse power 
were introduced, and still later those propelled 
by steam. The larger timbers of the boat 
were hewn out of large logs. The broadaxe 
and adz were used for this purpose. These 
timbers were sometimes as large as nine by 
twenty-four inches by fifty feet. They were 
placed about twenty feet apart to form the 
outside timbers or gunwales of the boat. 
Then planks were closely laid from one to the 
other of these long timbers. At the ends 
they fitted into what carpenters called a 
"gain" or groove. Of course there was fre- 
quently some little space between these 
bottom boards. These spaces or cracks were 
tightly filled with oakum, driven in by ham- 
mer, or with old rope. 

It was necessary to construct a boat with 
the top side down, and turning it over before 
being floated was a big job. This was done 
by raising one side of the boat with long poles 



JAMES CHENOWETH 



as levers until it stood on its side. It was 
then let down gradually by means of shorter 
poles or posts until the bottom was on the 
ground. The finishing touches to the hull 
were then put on. The boat now being ready 
for the "launching," large timbers, called 
"ways," were laid, inclining from the boat to 
the water. The boat was then placed on 
these timbers and held from sliding down the 
ways by a rope. 

When all was in readiness the rope was cut, 
and the boat slid from the shore into the river. 
The boat was then tied to the shore and the 
process of finishing began. Uprights, about 
six feet high, were fastened to the heavy 
gunwales, and to these planks were pinned. 
This furnished protection against the fire of 
the Indians in case of an attack. The bow 
of the boat was enclosed the same way, except 
that a small deck was left where the crew of 
the boat could move about to fasten the lines 
that were used to "tie up" the boat, where a 
landing was made for some purpose. The 
stern was generally enclosed to the roof. 
Doors were placed in the sides and bow. 
Scuttle-holes for going up and down from the 
main body of the boat were made in the roof 
at convenient places. There was always a 
short stairs near the women's part of the boat, 



JAMES CHENOWETH 

to be used by the women and children when 
a landing was made. Holes were cut in the 
sides and ends, from which guns could be 
fired in case of an attack by Indians. 

The boats were allowed to drift, but were 
also propelled in shallow water by poles 
touching the bottom, while deckhands walked 
along the sides from the bow to the stern, 
thus pushing the boat along. In deep water 
the boat was propelled by means of large 
oars placed on a pivot on each side of the 
boat. To steer this unwieldy craft there was 
a large oar mounted on the stern and the 
steersman walked across the roof and pushed 
on his oar, directing the boat to the left or 
right. 

When the boat upon which we were to go 
was finished, the men and older boys were 
quartered in the bow, and the women and 
children in the stern. The baggage was 
stowed away in the most convenient places. 
In the stern of the boat a fireplace had been 
built, so that in rainy weather, or when the 
boat could not land, cooking could be done. 
This fireplace was built almost like those 
built in the log cabins. Dirt was spread over 
a four by six feet space, and then over this a 
layer of stones was placed. Then the chimney 
of clay and sticks was built high enough to 



JAMES CHENOWETH 

go above the top of the boat. A small supply 
of wood was taken on board. The fire was 
kept burning all the time, because if it went 
out it would be difficult to start again. 
(You will remember that matches had not 
been invented at that time.) The only 
means of rekindling it would be to get fire 
from another boat, or to start it from a 
"flint and steel." 

The flint was a small piece of certain 
kind of hard stone. The "steer' was a very 
hard piece of steel about three inches long, 
a half inch broad and a quarter of an 
inch thick. The flint and steel, and a small 
piece of punk, were usually carried in the 
breast pocket of the hunting shirt. (Punk is 
wood, almost decayed and very easily set on 
fire.) To start a fire the pioneers would 
strike the edge of the flint with the steel and 
the sparks flying into the punk would set it 
on fire. Then very dry leaves would be used 
to coax the fire along until it caught small 
twigs and fine kindling. 

Firearms were also fired by striking the 
steel against the flint so that the sparks 
would drop in a small pan in the lock of the 
gun, thus igniting the powder. The expres- 
sion, "did not amount to a flash in the pan," 
arose from the fact that many times the 



JAMES CHENOWETH 

powder in the pan of the gun did not dis- 
charge the gun. 

We left Red Stone in April and moved 
down to Fort Pitt, located at the junction of 
the Alleghany and Monongahela Rivers. Here 
we remained until the soldiers had loaded 
their provisions and war materials. The 
little fleet under the command of Colonel 
Clark floated slowly down the river by day. 
When darkness came on, the boats were tied 
up to the bank, and the people would land 
and camp for the night. Guards were set 
over the boats and in the woods back of the 
camp. During this long voyage the soldiers 
and settlers became wellacquainted. 

The voyage ended May 27, 1778. The 
boats were tied up to trees on an island near 
the Kentucky shore above the Falls of the 
Ohio River. The rich soil of this island was 
covered with trees, and the soldiers and men 
were set to work to make a clearing. Cabins 
were built for the settlers. An enclosure or 
stockade was built, and in this the soldiers 
were quartered in log cabins, and in log cabins 
military supplies were stored. Corn was 
planted, and a good crop was yielded the first 
year. The place, therefore, was named Corn 
Island. 



JAMES CHENOWETH 



(Note — Corn Island has since been swallowed 
up by the waters of the Ohio and now it is all 
bare rocks, where once the tall sycamore, the 
oak, the cottonwood and other trees grew in 
beautiful profusion. This was true in the 
days of James Chenoweth.) 

Colonel Clark continued to enroll men for 
his expedition. The settlers at Harrodsburg 
and Boonesboro had heard of his intended 
expedition, and some of them came to Colonel 
Clark to assist him in recruiting. Among 
these men was Colonel Todd. Recruits also 
joined the expedition from other camps. Early 
in the morning of Wednesday, June 24th, the 
camp was all astir. The fastest boats, such 
as are now called "skiffs," had been loaded 
and everything was ready for the expedition 
to start when Colonel Clark should give the 
command. All those persons who were to 
remain, stationed themselves near the upper 
point of the island. About ten o'clock, the 
little fleet of boats carrying nearly 120 men 
passed down the Ohio near the right bank, 
and disappeared behind the island. (Note — 
The sun which had been growing darker and 
darker, passed into a total eclipse just as they 
descended the Falls.) 

Near the close of Summer, Simon Kenton 
and another soldier, with a letter from Colonel 

10 



The Fort or Station 

on 

Corn Island. 



JAMES CHENOWETH 



THE FORT OR STATION ON CORN ISLAND 

As the men who were under the command of Lieutenant 
Colonel George Rogers Clark were not educated in art, we have 
no pictures of the fort or island, but the accompanying illustra- 
tion will give you an idea of the usual aspect of the homes of the 
earliest settlers. 

Pictures of the first station built by the settlers are usually 
incorrect in one particular as they have the roofs slanting both 
ways, while the men who had to live in them made the wall of 
the outside of the cabin so high that no one could get to the top 
without a ladder and had the slant of the roof towards the in- 
side of the station grounds with the expectation that the Indians 
could not burn the cabins by firing arrows into the roofs. 

The fort built by the settlers on Corn Island (what is now 
Twelfth and Rowan streets, Louisville, Kentucky), in the Fall 
of 1778, had two-story cabins at the four corners called block- 
houses, each extending two feet outside of the line of the sides 
of the station, giving the men in them a view of all that went on. 



12 




&d§Mii 



The Fort or Station mi Corn Island. 



JAMES CHENOWETH 

Clark to Governor Patrick Henry, stopped at 
the island. He also had an order from 
Colonel Clark to the settlers to construct a 
fort on the Kentucky shore where they might 
pass the Winter, and be better protected from 
the Indians, and also avoid being driven from 
the island by a rise in the river. The men, 
who had looked closely at the trees, found 
marks, which to their experienced eyes showed 
that some time before our landing there had 
been a flood several feet deep on the island. 

During the flood of the year 1847, the writer 
stood upon the site of Fort Nelson and saw 
that Corn Island was entirely under water. 

Corn Island had almost disappeared in 
1881. Only a few fragments could be seen 
near where the bridge spans the river below 
the Falls. 

In the river, beyond the dam now there, 
Corn Island is gradually rising. The river 
every Spring leaves a small deposit of mud 
among the willows that cover the island. 
A good view of the new island can be had 
from the foot of Ninth Street. 

In obedience to Colonel Clark's order, a 
party of men was sent to look at the lay of the 
land and select a place for a settlement. The 
highest point of the river bank, where a long 
view up and down the river could be had, was 

13 



JAMES CHENOWETH 

chosen. Not far from what is now Twelfth 
and Rowan streets, near this place, was a good 
spring of cold water. The Summer drought had 
lowered the water in the river, so that there 
was a large space of bare rocks near the foot 
of the island. Over these rocks the settlers 
walked to the shore of the left bank. 

My father, being more experienced than 
anyone else in the party, was selected to 
direct the building of the little fortification. 
A space of ground two hundred feet long from 
north to south and one hundred feet from 
east to west, was staked off, and the work of 
cutting off the trees in this enclosure was 
begun. The bushes and shrubs were dug up 
by the roots. Such trees as could be used in 
building the cabins and the stockade were cut 
up for those purposes. 

There were eight cabins on the east and 
west sides, four across each end, and a block- 
house on each corner to be constructed. It 
may be interesting to know how these cabins 
were built. The logs used in the walls of 
the cabins were cut the proper length, the 
sides hewed and the ends notched where they 
were joined, as they were placed one on the 
other. Clapboards were made for the roof, 
while broad flat pieces were used for the floor. 
The rafters and door pieces were fastened 

14 



blockhouses 

at 
Bruant's Station. 



JAMES CHENOWETH 



BLOCKHOUSES AT BRYANT'S STATION 

Projecting beyond the lines of the stockades, with second 
story extending out over the first story, gave the men in the 
second story a chance to fire down upon the foe should they 
attempt to get into the fort. 



16 




. :»; 



;V 




u. 



mt ; 




JAMES CHENOWETH 



with hickory pins. Very few or no nails were 
to be had in those days. The doors were 
made of straight-grained wood, split to the 
thickness needed, and hung on wooden hinges. 
The latch of wood dropped into a wooden 
catch on the door-frame inside the cabin. 
Above the latch a hole in the door let a 
string pass to the outside, so that the latch 
could be raised from the outside. 

(Note — When the latch-string was drawn 
in, it was a signal that you must knock or 
ask to be allowed to come in. This gave rise 
to the common saying "Hang the latch- 
string out," as a sign of welcome.) 

The windows of the cabins were closed with 
wooden shutters on hinges and fastened by a 
wooden pin. The fireplace was wide and 
deep, and when stone could not be had was 
constructed of wood and clay. 

For fear some of you will not know what a 
blockhouse was, I will say that it was a 
cabin at the corner of the fort which was used 
by the soldiers when the fort was attacked 
by the Indians, and was so built that the 
soldiers could fire their guns in every direction. 
These cabins projected about three feet beyond 
the lines of the stockade. Holes were made 
in the projecting walls so that the men in the 
blockhouse could fire at any enemy who 

17 



JAMES CHENOWETH 

might seek to break down the gate or set fire 
to the stockade. 

The stockade was about ten feet high, and 
was built by placing thick timbers in the 
ground about three feet, and tamping the 
earth firmly around each piece, so that they 
gave the appearance of a strong wooden wall. 
This wall was thick enough to resist a rifle 
ball, and the edges of each timber were 
trimmed by the axe to fit to the next timber 
and leave no space or crack. 

The work of building the stockade and 
cabins was pushed with vigor all Fall, and the 
' 'house warming" party was held in the block- 
house of the new fort on the night of December 
24, 1778. 

On this Christmas eve a great feast had 
been spread in one of the blockhouses. To 
prepare this feast, it had taken the time and 
labor of all the cooks in the settlement for 
two days. It is said there were deer, bear, 
coon, 'possum, wild turkey, corn bread, flour 
bread, wild grapes, persimmons, wild honey, 
hominy and parched corn in great abundance. 
It is doubtful about the flour. 

The feast over, the young people were 
impatient to begin dancing. It so happened 
that in a party of immigrants bound down the 

18 



JAMES CHENOWETH 

river, which had landed a day or two before, 
there was a Frenchman who was a dancing 
teacher. There was also in our settlement a 
negro named Cato. Cato was a fiddler, but 
at this time had only two strings left to his 
fiddle. Now this Frenchman was anxious to 
get an invitation to the festivities, and gave 
Cato the strings for his violin for seeing that 
he got the needed invitation. 

But Monsieur was also asked to bring his 
fiddle and furnish the music, which he was 
proud to do, while poor old Cato was neglected. 
The master played tunes that none of the 
company knew. He tried to teach them 
some dances that were all the go in Paris, 
France, where he had been teaching. The 
young folks were too lazy or did not want to 
learn anything new. They made fun of his 
illustrations of how they were to walk, or 
bend gracefully. Seeing that the French 
airs and graces were all thrown away on 
them, his patience exhausted, fully disgusted, 
he packed his fiddle, and descended the bank 
to the boat in which he had come. 

In the meantime, Cato, having repaired 
his fiddle, had learned of the fun going on in 
the blockhouse and was ready when the 
young men hauled him upon the floor. All 
were soon dancing to the music he had learned 

19 



JAMES CHENOWETH 

away back in old Virginia, and a merrier 
party never welcomed the coming of a Christ- 
mas day. 

The little fort soon became too small, for 
settlers came frequently. Colonel Clark re- 
turned from the capture of Vincennes the 
next Spring and made his headquarters in a 
cabin of the fort. Here he kept up his cor- 
respondence with the Governor of Virginia 
and gave orders for the building of other 
forts in the new country. 

In course of some years, I learned that the 
second Winter we spent on shore in and near 
the little fort erected for the people who had 
been on Corn Island, was the most severe 
that any of the settlers ever experienced in 
the wilderness. The river was frozen for a 
long time so that one could walk across above 
the Falls. Many of the springs were frozen. 
Trees are said to have been cracked open by 
the frosts. The few domestic animals, which 
had been brought by the settlers in 1779, 
stood around the cabins night and day, 
making a mute appeal for food and shelter, 
and had to be cared for by the settlers. It was 
said that young deer and buffalo, being 
driven by hunger, mingled with the animals 
of the barnyards. 

20 



JAMES CHENOWETH 



The next Summer my father built a cabin 
for our family near the mouth of Beargrass 
Creek. The settlement grew in that direc- 
tion, and Colonel John Floyd made quite a 
station on the top of the bank a little above the 
creek. This same year, 1780, the name 
Louisville was applied to the Falls of the 
Ohio, in honor of Louis XVI, King of 
France, who was proving to be such a friend 
of the United States in their struggle with 
England. 

At that time there were many large ponds 
and sloughs near the fort, over which vapors 
hung. This condition made the place un- 
healthy, and many people began to build 
cabins on the high places farther from the 
river. 

My father had become a well known citizen 
of the little town. The year I was five years 
old (1782) he took the contract to build a 
larger and stronger fort up the river just 
below the mouth of Beargrass Creek. This 
contract was made with Colonel Clark. I 
recall the fact that now and then my father 
took me to see the men at work. I remember 
the two cannon, and the houses being built 
inside the fort. I recall that I looked with 
"all my eyes" at the soldiers who guarded 
the place. 



21 



JAMES CHENOWETH 

After I became old enough to know about 
such things, I learned that the contract my 
father had with Colonel Clark and the State 
of Virginia for building the fort had been the 
cause of his making a financial failure. 

This fort was a prominent feature in the 
early history of Louisville, so I will here 
introduce a description written by Mann 
Butler about the year 1832. "It was built 
by the militia from all the settled parts of the 
district, between the present Sixth and Eighth 
streets, on the northern side of Main Street, 
immediately on the bank of the river. In 
honor of the third governor of the State of 
Virginia it was named Fort Nelson. Seventh 
Street passed through the first gate opposite 
the headquarters of General Clark. The 
principal military defense in this part of the 
country deserves a few more particulars. It 
contained about an acre of ground and was 
surrounded by a ditch eight feet deep and ten 
feet wide, intersected in the middle by a row 
of sharp pickets. This ditch was surmounted 
by a breastwork of log pens filled with earth 
obtained from the ditch. Pickets ten feet 
high were planted on the top of the breast- 
works. Next to the river, pickets alone were 
deemed sufficient, aided by the high slope of 
the river bank. Some of the remains were 

22 



JAMES CHENOWETH 

found in the Summer of 1832, in excavating 
the cellar of John Love's stores on Main 
Street, opposite the Louisville Hotel. There 
was artillery in the fort, particularly a double 
fortified brass piece, which was captured by 
Clark at Vincennes. This piece played no 
inconsiderable part in the military operations 
of this period, insignificant as it may appear 
to the eyes of a regular military critic." 
(Note — The Union Depot at the foot of Sev- 
enth Street stands on the site of the upper 
end of Fort Nelson.) 

When the fort was dismantled some years 
after I became a man, some of the fragments 
were accidentally or otherwise buried in the 
ground. In excavating for buildings years 
after, these fragments came to light. I 
remember that Elisha Applegate lived on this 
site long after the fort had been forgotten. 
(Like other old men, I find myself wandering 
away from the story of my early life which I 
started out to tell you.) 

By the time I was seven years old there 
were many families in Louisville, and of 
course a large number of children, but there 
were no schools. On Sunday afternoons, we 
would sit in the shade and watch the men, as 
they engaged in jumping, wrestling, foot- 
racing, pitching quoits aud playing marbles. 

23 



JAMES CHENOWETH 

When we got a chance we imitated the older 
people. When cool weather came the young 
people would spend the early part of the night 
in dancing. When there was a house-raising, 
that is, when the men of the neighborhood 
came together to help some man build his 
cabin, there would be lots of good things to 
eat, and the boys always managed to get their 
shares. 

There were many slaves here at that time. 
Most of them were brought from Virginia. 
Our slaves were bought here in Kentucky. 
We children, white and black, were com- 
panions until we grew up, and then we were 
always friends. 

When I was three years old (1780), Colonel 
Clark received news that the Indians had 
killed many settlers, carried off much plunder 
and quite a number of men, women and 
children from the land east of Louisville, and 
made their escape across the Ohio. This 
roused the Colonel's anger. At once he sent 
men on swift horses to all the forts on the 
Licking and Kentucky Rivers, calling for 
armed volunteers to meet on a certain day at 
the mouth of the Licking. A large company 
was raised at our settlement. Over a thou- 
sand men were assembled with great celerity 
and secrecy. Two cannon which Colonel 

24 



JAMES CHENOWETH 

Clark had captured at Vincennes and brought 
to the Falls, were mounted in boats. These 
boats were manned by men trained to the 
use of cannon, and also experienced boatmen. 
Colonel Clark, with these boats, voyaged up 
and down the Ohio, between the Falls and the 
mouth of the Licking, keeping the Indians 
from crossing and protecting the many boats 
loaded with settlers on their way down the 
river. The Indians knew the range of the 
balls thrown by these cannon, and they also 
had a dread of the report made by them, 
because of the resemblance to thunder. The 
cannon therefore served to scare the Indians 
away. Colonel Clark also had a force of 
men on horseback, and these he sent into the 
Indians' country before they had time to 
arouse their friends and fellow savages. They 
made no stand until Clark reached Piqua, 
where a battle took place, in which seventeen 
were slain on each side. Clark burned their 
town, cut down their corn, which was in 
roasting-ear condition, tore up such scanty 
gardens as they had, and laid waste their 
homes. In a few days all the men were back 
in Kentucky, with only the above mentioned 
loss. The Indians, having to make new huts 
and to hunt to keep food on hand for them- 
selves and families, kept the peace the re- 
mainder of the year. 

25 



JAMES CHENOWETH 

In August, 1782, before Fort Nelson was 
finished, the dreadful news of the defeat of 
Blue Licks was brought to General Clark. 
I was not old enough to know what it all 
meant, but I remember that there was much 
weeping among the women, a great deal of 
talk among the men, and much excitement in 
general, when it was learned that General 
Clark had sent a messenger to Colonel 
Harrod, Squire Boone and Simon Kenton, to 
again assemble men at the mouth of the 
Licking River on a certain day. From there 
they were to follow him into the country of 
the Indians, where he intended to make war 
as he had done two years before. General 
Clark manned the two boats on which he 
placed the cannon, which he had used two 
years previously, and with a large number 
of row-boats, which he had collected at the 
mouth of Beargrass Creek and filled with 
men and supplies, he set forth on the second 
expedition against the Indians. 

We boys, all excited, were on the bank and 
saw the fleet start. It was soon out of our 
sight. We did not hear from them for weeks. 
When they returned, they had done so much 
damage in destroying the huts and crops of 
the Indians, that no large body of Indians 
ever made another raid into Kentucky. 

26 



TAMES CHENOWETH 



When I was eight years ok], my father 
bought a large tract of fine land about hfte* i A 
miles east of Louisville, and two miles from a 
settlement called Middletown. A little stream 
ran through the land which is now known as 
Chenoweth's run, in honor of my father. We 
moved to the place after father had built a 
good double cabin. He then cleared more 
land, built cabins for the negroes, stables for 
the horses and cribs for the corn. Father 
took most pride in a stone spring-house which 
he built on the side of the branch about two 
hundred yards from the house. In building 
this spring-house, he dug back in the bank 
until he found plenty of water. From stone 
which he found here, and with lime which he 
obtained by burning some of the stone, he 
built the walls. The floor was made by 
leveling off the natural stone. He put on a 
good tight roof and made a garret. The 
garret or loft was reached by ladder from the 
inside. A door was made in the gable so that 
it could be entered from the outside by a 
ladder or by a plank. Loop-holes were left 
in the sides of the spring-house and rifles 
could be fired from these holes in case we 
were attacked by the Indians. As you see, 
my father meant this to be used as a kind of 
fort, as well as a spring-house. 



27 



JAMES CHENOWETH 



In two years much land had been cleared. 
Our crops of corn, wheat and rye were looking 
line. I was than a lad of ten years, running 
about clad only in a long tow-linen shirt. 
I was up to everything that was going on 
on the farm. 

On a certain night in June we had a shower, 
after which we discovered that the horses 
were not in their stables. Father and Gid 
Chenoweth, a near relative who was living 
with us at the time, started to find them. 
Although uninvited I went along to help. 
We followed their tracks for about a mile 
when we saw them grazing near two fields of 
corn and rye. We leisurely approached them, 
not expecting anything wrong. Suddenly we 
were fired upon by a party of Indians not 
many yards away. Where father and Gid 
went I never knew, because I was too fright- 
ened to look around. With the Indians in 
full pursuit I flew in the direction of the 
house as fast as my trembling legs could 
carry me. (I have always said I ran so fast 
you might have played marbles on my shirt- 
tail.) One of the Indians kept after me 
longer than the other two. Finding I was 
gaining on him, he fired at me with an arrow, 
striking me in the right hip. I drew the 
arrow out, leaving a part of the head in the 



JAMES CHENOWETH 

wound. As I ran I met mother hurrying 
toward me. She had heard the guns which 
the Indians had fired, and had taken two of 
father's guns and was coming to our aid. 
I cried out to her, "They killed Dad and Gid 
but they didn't catch me." I took one gun 
and mother the other, and with beating 
hearts we ran back to look for the bodies of 
the two men. We expected to find that the 
very worst had befallen them. When we 
came to a sink-hole where the Indians had 
made their attack, not a person was in sight. 
The horses had run a little way and had 
stopped to graze again. Still my brave 
mother hurried on, watching every tree and 
bush, until at length we came to the field 
where the rye was high, and out of it the two 
men rushed, unhurt. Mother had to be 
helped back to the house, while the three 
railed me about my fast running. 

Next Summer (1788) my brother Tom had 
his experience with the Indians. Tom was 
a big boy about fourteen years old, just 
beginning to imitate the ways of men. We 
had to send our grist to a mill on Floyd's 
Fork, some distance away. Tom was told to 
"go to mill." He placed a bag of corn on the 
back of one of the horses. Although bare- 
footed he strapped a spur on each ankle. 

29 



JAMES CHENOWETH 

Riding slowly along the trail through the 
woods, he lay down on the horse, resting his 
head on the bag and his legs crossed over the 
horse's neck. Suddenly the horse stumbled, 
throwing Tom forward. Forgetting his spurs 
he clasped his legs around the horse's neck, 
and the gentle old horse, thus gouged by the 
spurs, gave a leap and the boy fell off. On 
getting up he found three or four Indians 
surrounding him. He was made a prisoner 
and hurried away to the Indian country. 
Since he did not come back from the mill that 
day and since no trace of him or the horse 
could be found, my father concluded that the 
Indians had captured him. He had a hard 
time convincing mother that she would see 
her boy again. Almost despairingly she hoped 
that father was right. In the year 1794 (?) 
we heard that Tom was a prisoner among the 
Indians on the Mad River in Ohio. A 
famous chief had taken him into his family, 
treating him as a son. General Clark, a 
warm friend of my father, arranged with the 
British Government at Detroit to exchange 
an Indian chief for Tom. This took some 
time, but it was at last done and Tom was 
brought to Fort Nelson. Here father met 
him. He had grown to be a man. He was 
in the full costume of a chief's son, painted 



30 



JAMES CHENOWETH 

and covered with feathers. These he did not 
like to put aside for the buckskin suit which 
father had brought him. They rode out 
home, arriving about dark. Mother was all 
in tears to see her boy again. 

Tom showed no signs of being glad to get 
back, asked no questions, was not surprised 
at anything, and was a good deal of an 
Indian all over. I noticed he walked like an 
Indian. He was not used to things at the 
table. When bedtime came he insisted on 
putting his blanket on the floor where he 
could sleep with his feet to the fire. It took 
years among our people to remove the traces 
of his life among the Indians. We tried not 
to notice his peculiar ways. By degrees he 
learned our customs once more. 

In the Summer of 1789 our family consisted 
of father, mother, Milly, Jane, Naomi, now 
six years old, and myself. A guard named 
Bayless, loaned us by the garrison at Louis- 
ville, stayed at our house. At that time one 
John Rose was also there. There were several 
negroes in the cabins. On July 17th all the 
white folks after supper were lingering around 
the table when suddenly the outside door 
opened and a party of sixteen Indians, yelling 
with their utmost fury, burst into the room. 



31 



JAMES CHENOWETH 

In a chair near the door I had been asleep. 
I was thrown to the floor. As I scrambled to 
my feet an Indian gave me a terrible blow 
with a tomahawk. How I reached the out- 
side I cannot tell, but I suppose I crawled. 
I remember that I made my way to a large 
heap of firewood and hid as far under the 
brush as I could. An Indian dog evidently 
scented me, for he ran snufhng around the 
pile, but left without finding me. I lay there 
a long time. I must have been considerably 
stunned by the tomahawk, for I do not 
remember when the Indians went away. 
When next I knew anything, there was no 
noise and no one moving about, no light in 
the house. On the hilltop a wood pile was 
burning and this gave some little light. 
Slowly and very easily and softly I got on 
my knees and climbed out of the place where 
I had lain. I crawled back into the woods 
some distance where I found a dark spot and 
there sat down to think. I could not hear a 
sound, not even a horse stamping in the 
stable, nor a cow taking a deep breath. It 
was an awful scrape for a boy. I was sure 
all the others had been killed or carried off 
as prisoners by the Indians. All the dreadful 
stories I had been hearing for years came 
back to me, to make me afraid. I thought 
I might make my way to the little group of 

32 



JAMES CHENOWETH 

houses called Middletown, about two miles 
away. I moved very cautiously along the 
slope of the hill toward the branch, aiming to 
strike some distance below our spring. I 
crossed the hollow and crept over the hill 
located on the south side of our land. I soon 
came to a piece of land which I did not 
recognize. I broke down, for I felt that I had 
lost my way. Miserable and weeping, I 
crouched down between the roots of a big 
tree. In a few moments I saw an animal 
coming toward me. It was my dog. He 
knew me and began to lick my hand and face. 
He was as glad to find me as I was to meet 
with him. His kisses on my face became too 
intimate and I put my hand up to ward off 
his licking. I found my face covered with 
something moist which I knew must be blood. 
There was so much of it that I was sure I 
had been cut with a scalping knife. With 
trembling fingers I felt the top of my head. 
I was very glad to find hair instead of bare 
skull. The blood had come from the toma- 
hawk wound. As I wore only a shirt and a 
pair of homespun breeches, I was cold. I 
went to sleep, warmed by my faithful dog 
which lay quite still in my arms. It was 
daylight when I awoke. I decided to try 
again to find Middletown. I had not gone 



33 



JAMES CHENOWETH 

far ere I heard footsteps approaching. I was 
thrown into another fright. If they were 
Indians I was a "goner." If whites, they 
seeing my red face might shoot me for an 
Indian. I hid myself under the side of a log 
as best I could. I was soon discovered and 
recognized by John Rose .who was in the 
party. The party was under the command 
of Col. Richard Clough Anderson. (Note — 
Colonel Anderson lived on the big road from 
Middletown to Louisville, about five miles 
from our house. John Rose had made his 
escape and had gone to the house of Colonel 
Anderson, arriving before Mrs. Anderson had 
gone to sleep. Mrs. Anderson was a sister of 
General George Rogers Clark.) Mrs. Ander- 
son heard footsteps and then a knock at the 
door. She roused her husband with a whisper 
of ' 'Indians. ' ' They waited for another knock 
and then said, "Who is there?" "It's me, 
John Rose. Col. Anderson, the Indians have 
killed everybody at Chenoweth's." Colonel 
Anderson let him in and heard his story while 
he dressed. They then went out, and woke 
up all the men on the place. Some were sent 
on horseback to gather a company. (Note — 
In this company of men gathered by Colonel 
Anderson was a young man of nineteen years 
named Wm. Clark, a brother of General 



34 



JAMES CHENOWETH 

George Rogers Clark, and Mrs. Anderson, just 
then a member of the household. He was 
one of the leaders of the Lewis and Clark 
expedition of 1804 to 1806. I remember that 
he had the reddest head I had ever seen. I 
have heard that the western Indians won- 
dered at and admired his hair, which they are 
said to have handled in order to see if the color 
rubbed off, and they must have thought what 
a unique scalp it would make) to come to 
our rescue. It was after midnight before the 
company assembled and arrangements had 
been made for the protection of Mrs. Ander- 
son and her family, until the return of the 
party. 

Colonel Anderson took me on his lap, and 
as we rode along he had me tell all I could 
about what had happened. Before we reached 
our farm, Colonel Anderson had everybody 
dismount and see that their guns were 
loaded and ready to fire. He then ordered 
three men to hold the horses. The others of 
the company were to walk toward our house 
and see if the Indians were there. Three 
men were sent ahead to give the alarm. But 
there was no sign of anyone. All around was 
quiet. No sounds at all. The Indians had 
taken all the horses, killed the cow, robbed 
the chicken roost and left, as they thought, 

35 



JAMES CHENOWETH 

not a sign of life. They had burned poor 
Bayless, the guard, on the fire I had seen 
while hiding in the woodpile. Colonel Ander- 
son cut his body down from the tree to which 
he had been tied and placed it on the ground. 
A piece of bedding was thrown over his face. 
The Indians had set fire to the house but 
it had gone out. As Colonel Anderson stepped 
into the room in which we had been having 
supper, he saw little Naomi sitting in front 
of the fireplace, her little petticoat thrown 
over her head to cover her eyes. As soon as 
she heard a voice she dropped her petticoat 
and asked them not to kill her also. ' 'Every- 
body else is dead," she said. She was asleep 
when the Indians came, and was rolled up in 
the bedclothes and was left unnoticed and 
unhurt. She had slept through it all and 
did not wake until daylight came. Finding 
no one about, and seeing everything destroyed, 
she thought everyone had been killed. 

With the hope of finding some trace of the 
rest of the family, a search was at once 
ordered by Colonel Anderson. At the spring- 
house mother was discovered. She lay on 
the floor by the spring, almost dead, but had 
managed to get water. She had been scalped, 
tomahawked and wounded with an arrow. 
She soon rallied when in the hands of our 
friends. Colonel Anderson bound up her 

36 



JAMES CHENOWETH 

bleeding head, dressed the arrow wound and 
put her left arm in a sling. He then washed 
my wound and face, and- tied a bandage 
around my head. Jane had escaped to a 
neighbor's house. Milly received a bad gash 
in the arm and father had been grazed by a 
tomahawk. 

Col. Anderson followed the trail of the 
Indians a short distance, but finding danger 
of an ambush he called his men in council. 
He was advised to return and take care of our 
family. After looking over the place he 
gathered up what clothing the Indians had 
left, and we prepared to make the journey to 
Colonel Anderson's, where we might be cared 
for until our home could be again established. 
I rode with a neighbor. Naomi rode with 
John Rose. Mother was placed in her own 
saddle, and a man rode on each side to keep 
her from falling. She stood the march like a 
soldier, and was quite strong when we reached 
Soldier's Retreat, as Colonel Anderson's place 
was called. Here Mrs. Anderson tenderly 
cared for her and for the rest of our family. 

In a few days mother was strong enough to 
tell us of her dreadful experience. When the 
Indians broke in upon us, we all ran in every 
direction, and mother had started toward the 
spring-house, when she was shot between the 

37 



JAMES CHENOWETH 

shoulder blades with an arrow. She stum- 
bled and fell on her face. The Indian fol- 
lowed her, and probably supposing her dead, 
drew the arrow out, putting his foot on her 
back as he did so. He then began his 
triumphant work of scalping her. He first 
wound her long hair around one hand in 
order to get a better purchase. Then with 
"the very dullest and jaggedest knife that 
she ever felt," he cut the skin around her 
head just below the hair line. He then took 
the knife between his teeth. With both 
hands wrapped in her hair and with his foot 
on her back, he tore off the entire scalp, 
leaving her bare skull dripping blood from a 
thousand little blood vessels. To finish his 
work, he gave two blows from the butt of his 
tomahawk. She was conscious all this time, 
which seemed weeks to her. She suffered 
agonies beyond description without a shriek, 
or groan, or murmur. She wanted so much 
to live for such of her family as might escape, 
so she pretended to be dead. She lay in this 
place until the Indians had left. She then 
tottered toward the spring-house, falling from 
weakness and pain from her wounds. She 
struggled on until she came to the plank 
which led to the door in the garret of the 
spiing-house. Here she fell, una,ble to rise 



38 



JAMES CHENOWETH 

and walk the little distance on the plank. 
She lay there trying to gain strength. A 
bright light, caused by the Indians' attempt 
to burn the house, and their loud whoops, as 
they rushed about finishing their dreadful 
job, kept her conscious. The light gave her 
a clear view of the narrow plank. But at 
this time she was not able of herself to walk 
across. Then there came into her mind a 
flash of memory brighter than the flames of 
her home, a dear but almost forgotten hymn, 
"Jesus can make my path to shine." She 
rose and walked across the plank to the spring- 
house. In telling her story she always said 
she knew this was an inspiration from her 
Saviour, and therefore as an act of faith, like 
Peter walking on the water, she rose and 
walked the plank unto salvation. Was there 
ever such a martyr? Among the pioneer 
mothers of Kentucky she may have had an 
equal — she had no superior. She suffered 
from her wounds for a long time but finally 
fully recovered. However, she was a curiosity 
to see — without hair, or any place on her 
head for it to grow. 

Our family was made comfortable at Colo- 
nel Anderson's while father and John Rose 
returned to our place and put the house in 
repair. Before Winter came we had gone 

39 



JAMES CHENOWETH 

back to our house, and were doing as well as 
could be expected. Our great misfortune had 
been noised about, and people came from far 
and near to hear about the "massacre," as it 
was called. Our neighbors did everything 
they could to help us get started again. Our 
life henceforth was quiet and undisturbed. 

The wound in my hip made by. the Indian 
some years before had always given me pain. 
Often I was confined to my bed for days and 
even weeks. My strength was seriously un- 
dermined and I always felt badly because I 
could not run and romp as other boys. My 
mother agreed with me that there was 
something in the wound. She had father 
find out when Dr. Joseph Knight of Louisville 
would be in our section attending the sick. 
It was fourteen miles to town. It would take 
the Doctor a day to come and go, and besides 
the expense would be greater if we had him 
come just to see me. So we had him call 
the next time he made a trip to our settlement. 
The day on which he came I was dressed and 
around the house and was feeling very com- 
fortable. Mother had him examine me. His 
examination was quite painful to me. Then 
he had me take off my breeches and sit 
astraddle of a chair, facing the back. 

In those days we had no medicines or 

40 



The 

Chenoireth Spring 

House 



JAMES CHENOWETH 



THE CHENOWETH SPRING-HOUSE 
(Where the massacre occurred July 17, 1789.) 

Richard Chenoweth, following his neighbors, content with 
a log cabin for his home, decided to build his spring house of 
stone. Clearing a space of earth, rocks and trees, blasting the 
rock around a spring gushing (as it does today) from the hillside 
at a point' about fourteen or fifteen miles from Louisville, Ken- 
tucky, built the spring-house, which is about fifteen feet squa re 
with a height of fifteen feet to the comb of the roof, walls two 
feet thick, an attic, and a door in the south next to the hill side. 
This spring-house stands today — a monument to the untiring 
efforts of the pioneer. 



42 



JAMES CHENOWETH 

drugs to relieve pain. Chloroform had not 
been discovered. The doctor took out his 
instruments, put his fingers on the spot 
where it was tenderest, and with a quick 
stroke of his knife cut a gash deep and wide 
enough to insert his thumb and forefinger. 
He drew out a piece of iron arrowhead which 
had reached the bone and, returning, was 
coming out. I did not have time to give 
more than one or two yells before it was all 
over. 

In two or three weeks I was going about 
gaining strength daily. I was soon stronger 
than I had ever been. I had no use for 
doctors for many years. I grew to be quite a 
boy before I could read. A friend named 
Gaines, a gentleman of education, visited us 
often. One day he suggested that he would 
send me something to read. I was compelled 
to admit that I had never even learned to 
spell. This increased his interest in me. 
From an old newspaper he taught me my 
letters. In a few months I had learned to 
read. Since that day what I now know about 
books I have learned myself. I was never in 
a schoolhouse as a scholar. I have fre- 
quently been there to hear and see exhibitions 
of what boys, more fortunate than I, have 
learned. Books were not common in my 

43 



JAMES CHENOWETH 

boyhood. Such books as a household owned 
were read and re-read, until their contents 
were almost learned by heart. Newspapers 
were very scarce and were passed around the 
neighborhood until they were worn out. 
There were no envelopes in those days in 
which to send letters. 

Letters were carefully folded and sealed 
with wax or with a wafer. The address was 
written on the outside. Mail was generally 
given to some reliable person who happened 
to be going to the place to which it was 
addressed, consequently it took weeks for 
letters to go from Louisville to the lower 
counties of Virginia. You seldom heard of 
anyone opening a letter confided to his care. 
I have heard of more than one who had been 
guilty of carrying a letter in his hunting 
shirt for weeks, forgetting to mail it. LTnder 
such circumstances people wrote letters only 
about important matters. Few people had 
use for their hand-writing. They were bet- 
ter at handling the axe or the rifle. I never 
was much of a hand at any of them, though 
I have managed to get along in the world. 

You may remember that I spoke of my 
having risen to the dignity of breeches when 
the massacre occurred. This was an advance 
above the tow-linen shirt of two years pre- 

44 



JAMES CHENOWETH 

vious. When the children grew large enough 
to require clothes, the mother of the family 
made them much after the pattern of clothes 
worn by the grown folks. They would not 
look very nice to the boys of the present time, 
1850. 

By 1796 the settlers in Jefferson County 
had become very numerous. A settled road 
now led through the woods to Middletown 
and on to where Shelbyville is now located. 
The settlers who first moved out from Louis- 
ville were attracted by the fine land on the 
middle fork of Beargrass Creek. They then 
occupied the land toward the east where a 
little fort was built which was called Spring 
Station. This was about four miles from 
town. Further up the creek Christian's Sta- 
tion, Sturgis and Lynn's were located. Colo- 
nel Anderson's place was also on the road 
which connected these places. 

You may be interested to know that this 
road was nothing like roads we have today. 
The man who first laid it out chose the best 
(most level) ground he could find. Then 
with his axe he marked the trees which were 
in the center of his line. On one side of the 
road he would make two "blazes" on the 
trees, and on the other side of the road three 
"blazes," or chips, out of the tree, would be 
made. When he came to a point where the 

45 



V 



JAMES CHENOWETH 

road turned, he marked the center tree with 
one ' 'blaze." This road was afterward cleared 
of the trees and stumps and made passable, 
except in the Spring of the year, when it was 
very muddy. It was at all times better than 
following the old trail. 

My boyhood was over when I was sixteen. 
I felt I was now ready to do my part of the 
work of reclaiming the country from the 
forest and the Indians. Yet I must confess 
that, after our disaster, I never had an inclina- 
tion to go hunting, or to fight with the Indians. 

Father now had all the work he could 
attend to. Most of his work was building 
plain cabins for the settlers. Now and then 
some gentleman from Virginia or Pennsyl- 
vania would have a fine house erected. It 
was at a house raising in 1796, not far from 
our home, that he was crushed to death by a 
falling log. 

We did not remain long at this place after 
father's death. We moved to a place some 
five miles east of Shelbyville called Big 
Spring. Here mother lived to be over eighty 
years of age. 

My life since has not been eventful. I 
married. My wife has passed away. My 
children are well to do, and live in Kentucky 
and Ohio. I am now under the loving care 
of my oldest son, John, where I hope to end 
my days. 

46 



IDhere Louisuille 
Started 



bq 



ALFRED PIRTLE 



WHERE LOUISVILLE STARTED 



A PLAN OF THE RAPIDS IN THE RIVER OHIO 

By Thomas Hutchins, an officer of the British Army, in 1769. 

The country is covered with trees; the rapids are correctly 
drawn near the right bank or what is known as the Indiana 
shore. The dotted line shows the "channel of the river. " Boat- 
men followed this course which had been taught by the Indians 
to the French, who in turn taught it to the English. 

It was on one of these islands in 1778, a small body of 
soldiers, brought here by Lieutenant Colonel George Rogers 
Clark, planted corn for food during that Summer, which fact 
gave the name of "Corn Island" to the spot. 



WHERE LOUISVILLE STARTED 



WHERE LOUISVILLE 
STARTED 

THE winter of 1777 was on, and Major 
George Rogers Clark, of the Virginia troops, 
traveled from Kentucky to Richmond, Va., 
to use his influence with Governor Patrick 
Henry for the benefit of the new country and 
its people away out beyond the mountains. 
He told Governor Henry of their want of 
protection from the Indians of north of the 
Ohio, and laid before him the plans he (Clark) 
had thoroughly thought out, that the best 
method of protecting the infant settlement 
was by attacking the British of Detroit, 
Vincennes and Kaskaskia, where lay the 
sources of the Indian depredations. In ad- 
dition to this point, he pictured to the Gov- 
ernor the value such an attack on the pos- 
sessions and forces of the British would be, 
in the grand campaign to be waged during 
the coming year. Some months passed in 
preparation of the expedition, which had the 
full endorsement of Governor Henry and the 
Military Committee. 



WHERE LOUISVILLE STARTED 

The men were enrolled, equipped and as- 
sembled at Redstone on the Monongahela 
River (now called Brownsville, Pa.), during 
the spring of 1778, and Clark, promoted to 
Lieutenant Colonel, floated down to Fort 
Pitt, (now Pittsburgh), where the expedi- 
tion completed its stores and ammunition, 
and started down the Ohio, early in the 
month of May, having something like eighty 
settlers, traveling under the protection of 
the military part of the expedition. Mov- 
ing slowly, camping on the shore at night, the 
fleet was moored to the trees on the shores of 
an island at the head of the Falls of the Ohio, 
May 27, 1778. 

Clark remained on this island some weeks, 
while the soldiers cleared a part of the trees 
away, made a stockade and cabkis for the set- 
tlers to occupy, erected some store rooms to 
protect the military supplies, which he left 
under the guard of ten men; and the large 
body of men, over 125, made short work of 
the above mentioned improvements. The 
settlers planted a crop of corn on the island, 
which gave the name by which it has since 
been known in history, (Corn Island), but it 
has long since been swept away by the Ohio. 

During an eclipse of the sun, Lieutenant 
Colonel Clark, with the main body of troops 



Rand Mill 

for 

Qrinding Corn 



WHERE LOUISVILLE STARTED 



THE ANCIENT HANDMILL FOR GRINDING 
CORN MEAL 

Although surrounded by much that is modern, and lacking 
in details, the above illustration will give an idea of the hard 
work required to produce a quantity of meal or crushed wheat 
sufficient for a few persons. 

WATER MILLS FLOURISHED AT AN EARLY PERIOD 

The John Filson map of 1784 shows a grist mill run by 
water from the big spring about four miles from the Chenoweth 
place at what is now Lakeland. 




The Ancient Hand-mill for Grinding Corn. 



WHERE LOUISVILLE STARTED 

left the Falls of the Ohio, June 24, and in row 
boats proceeded rapidly down the Ohio, un- 
til he came to the ruins of Ft. Massac, about 
40 miles from the mouth of the Ohio, where he 
landed, and from there marched overland, 
and in the early part of July, captured Kas- 
kaskia and the other posts on the east bank 
of the Mississippi. It is not the intention in 
this sketch to give any account of this most 
remarkable man's extraordinary achievements 
on this campaign, but remember when you 
think of it, that Clark was not twenty-six 
years of age until the following November. 

He did not forget his little band of people 
on the island at the Falls of the Ohio, for he 
sent them orders, by two messengers (one 
was Simon Kenton), who reached there in 
September, on their way to Richmond, Va., 
with despatches for Governor Henry, that 
they were to remove to the mainland on the 
Kentucky shore and build a wooden fort and 
cabins in which to pass the next winter. 

The hand of man had not then been laid 
upon the rocks and islands in the river, and 
the bottom of the river was laid bare in the 
season of low water, between Corn Island 
and the Kentucky shore and the people could 
move across without impediment. The woods 
gave them fuel and food from the game 



WHERE LOUISVILLE STARTED 

which roamed in their depths. Water from 
a spring near at hand was a requisite, and 
this was found at the foot of the second bank 
of the river, and the site of the first fort was 
selected, not far from this spring, which with- 
in the memory of the writer supplied a brew- 
ery, directly at the foot of Twelfth Street. 

The building of the fort was done by the 
soldiers left by Clark and the men of the lit- 
tle body of settlers, under the direction of 
Richard Chenoweth, a housebuilder, who had 
brought his wife and children with him to 
make a home in the wilderness. 

The bank of the river, where they decided 
to place themselves, was a little higher than 
the ground now is, and the location gave a 
view up and down the river for miles. 

George Rogers Clark had been well edu- 
cated in Virginia, his native State, was a good 
surveyor and made a clear map, drawn to a 
scale, of the young settlement in 1779, and the 
map shows that the first settlement in Louis- 
ville was on the spot now occupied by the 
Conrad Shoe Company, on the south side of 
Rowan Street, about one hundred feet east 
of Twelfth Street. A few years ago, the Fil- 
son Club appointed Colonel R. T. Durrett, 
Mr. Donald McDonald, Miss Barlow, Mrs. 



WHERE LOUISVILLE STARTED 



Sallie Marshall Hardy and Alfred Pirtle, to 
make a personal inspection of the ground, and 
to locate the exact position of the first fort in 
Louisville. With the map in hand, it was not 
at all difficult to reach the conclusion, given 
above, that the fort was situated as stated in 
the preceding paragraph. 

The trees were cut down and removed from 
sufficient space to erect a stockade and cabins 
to enclose a space approximately two hun- 
dred feet long by one hundred wide. Block 
houses were built at the four corners, while 
eight cabins on each long side, which ran 
north and south, and four on each end, east 
and west, and the stockades between the cab- 
ins formed the enclosure, the cabins being 
with their backs to the outside and their doors 
opening on the "parade", as it came to be 
called. The block houses were two stories 
high, with the second story overhanging the 
lower, so that no enemy could get under the 
stockade in day-light without being seen. 
The roofs of the cabins and block houses sloped 
to the inside of the fort. The main gate 
was near the northwest block house. All the 
brush was cleared away some hundred yards 
from the fort and afterwards the trees were 
cut down as the timber was needed. 



WHERE LOUISVILLE STARTED 

The fort was habitable in December, and 
the first Christmas party in Louisville was 
given December 24 and 25, 1778, in the 
northeast block house, which Richard Cheno- 
weth finished in time for the great feast that 
was the principal part of the evening except 
the dancing by music furnished by Cato, the 
darkey fiddler of the settlement. 

There is no question of the locality of the 
fort, for Colonel Clark returned to Louisville, 
after his capture of Vincennes and made his 
headquarters there, while he built a larger 
and permanent fort at the foot of Seventh 
Street on Main Street in 1782. 

Clark was a civil engineer and evidently 
saw the high water mark on the shore, hence 
his requiring the removal of the settlement 
from the island to the mainland before winter 
set in, so they would be safely housed before 
an early spring flood. 

To construct the fort as directed by Lieu- 
tenant Colonel Clark, the site was first se- 
lected and marked out by clearing the small 
trees and under brush from the outlines of the 
space that was to be enclosed. Then the trees 
within the area were cut down, the limbs trim- 
med off and the trunks made into logs of the 
proper length, either for making the block 

10 



WHERE LOUISVILLE STARTED 

houses, the log cabins, the stockade, gates, 
doors, floors and roofs. Such wood as re- 
mained was chopped into pieces for firewood. 
The tools mostly used by the pioneers were 
axes, saws and augers. With an ax only, a 
man skilled in handling it could get from the 
tree as it lay, almost any part of the building 
he needed, that is, the logs that were to make 
the walls and windows, the flat pieces that 
were used for the floor, and the split pieces 
(clapboards), to go upon the rafters and make 
the roof. Pins trimmed from the smaller 
pieces, to take the place of bolts or nails, were 
used to fasten the various parts of the build- 
ing together. Having raised the house to the 
proper height, the rafters, split out of young 
trees, were placed on the walls and made se- 
cure at the proper angle to throw off the rain 
and snow, and instead of nails driven into each 
clapboard that made the roof, long timbers 
were laid lengthwise of the roof; on these clap- 
boards were laid, and on them, other long 
pieces were placed in which holes were bored 
and long wooden pins driven in, so as to hold 
the two long pieces and the clapboards all to- 
gether. 

The doors, of straight grained wood, split 
and smoothed with the ax, were hung on wood- 
en hinges, fastened by wooden pins to a wood- 



11 



WHERE LOUISVILLE STARTED 

en frame. A large latch, also of wood, drop- 
ped into a wooden catch on the door frame in- 
side the cabin. Above the latch was a hole 
in the door, through which the latch string 
hung down on the outside so that the latch 
could be raised from without, and a sign that 
one must knock or ask to be admitted was 
made by taking the latch string inside. Hence 
the saying, "Hang the latch string out", as a 
sign of hospitable welcome. The windows had 
no glass for many years after the settlement 
of the State, but there were wooden shutters 
hung to close very much the same as the doors, 
except the latch was not used but a hole was 
bored in a log or part of the frame, at an an- 
gle that would admit a piece of wood to be 
placed, so as to keep the shutter firmly closed 
against wind or against an enemy. The fire 
place was large, deep and ample in every way, 
for wood cost nothing except labor, and a fire 
burned all the time for light or cooking. 
Where stone was near, the chimney was built 
of it, or if it was scarce or difficult to get, the 
walls of the chimney were made of sticks of 
wood laid upon each other with a thick coat 
of mud between, and a liberal application of 
it on the inside where it soon baked hard. But 
there were chimneys that took fire, yet it was 
seldom, and many a cabin escaped entirely. 



12 



WHERE LOUISVILLE STARTED 

As the fort was building, the space to be oc- 
cupied by each cabin was laid off, and that 
space between them was to be filled with a 
stockade. The timber for this was taken from 
small trees, cut to about fifteen feet long and 
split down the center. One end of each piece 
was sharpened with the ax, so that the pieces 
of timber when placed on end and so close to- 
gether that there were no places for a bullet 
to go through, formed an edge like a saw. 
To put the stockade in place, a trench was 
dug deep enough to put the timbers three 
feet, at least, in the ground, thus making them 
too high for a man to scale unless with the 
help of a ladder of some kind. The earth 
was rammed tight around the stockade, and 
in a few months it was perfectly firm. These 
pieces of wood were selected with care so as 
not to have any places where bullets could 
get through, be heavy enough to turn the bul- 
lets or stroke of a tomahawk if thrown of 
against it; in fact, resist anything but the fire 
cannons. 

In 1782 Clark, promoted to Brigadier Gener- 
al, built the second fort, named Fort Nelson for 
the Governor of Virginia, at Seventh Street 
and the river, which he made more substan- 
tial than the first fort. 



13 



WHERE LOUISVILLE STARTED 



Colonel George Rogers Clark relics from the collection of 
the late Colonel R. T. Durrett. 

Tomahawk on the left of the picture; the length of the 
handle is very unusual and must have been used for some im- 
portant purpose. 

The watch is of good size and of strong material. Must 
have been quite heavy to carry. 

The pocket compass has a frame to hang in upon the wall 
when not in use in the woods. 

The scalping knife is of unusual form and size. White men 
learned from the Indians to carry this knife because of the great 
number of ways it became useful in the woods. 

The powder horn is rather plain but a fine specimen. For 
the hunter and warrior it was indispensable because all the guns 
and pistols were loaded from the muzzle. 

The gun and pistol have what is known as flint locks. The 
pistol has a flint but this is lacking on the rifle. A ramrod appears 
on the underneath side of the rifle. 

The pistol and rifle were probably made in Birmingham, 
England, for the Indians and whites bought from importers from 
England. 

The sword is said to have been used by a musician during 
the Revolutionary War. It is longer than any that have been 
used in the United States Army. 



14 



